


A New Year

by Anonymous



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: "Martin and kind agricultural student fluff (or smut. Or both!)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Year

Sunday 4th September. With all of the students having graduated and moved out over the summer, Martin anxiously awaits the arrival of the house’s new residents. He’s been awake since 6am to make everything is clean and tidy. By the time the first one arrives at midday, he’s knackered and ends up going back to bed for a while. When he eventually wakes up, there’s only one person still to arrive and Martin only just makes it downstairs in time to greet them.  
  
“I’m Martin,” he offers with a hand out.  
  
“Nice to meet you! I’m Jamie.” He puts one of his bags down to shake Martin’s hand. His hair, brown and unbelievably thick, frames his face and almost covers his dark brown eyes. His strong features and prominent nose make Martin suddenly and uncomfortably aware of his own, rather non-descript ones. He’s slim but seems to have a sort of wiry strength about him. He must be at least five ten, five eleven - he towers over Martin, at any rate.  
  
Not wanting to hover round awkwardly while people are unpacking, he makes some food and retreats to his room to have a look at some flight plans.  
  
Fitton Agricultural College is part of a nearby university and the students all head off the next day for the first morning of Freshers Week, leaving Martin alone at the house. He has one job in the early afternoon but it only takes an hour, so he’s back moping around again by three o’clock.  
  
There’s no one in the lounge for once so he sneaks in and turns the TV on. The options aren’t great so he opts for the cookery programme and settles down.  
  
The next thing he’s aware of is a voice saying his name softly and a hand on his shoulder. As he slowly comes back to full consciousness and spots the evening news on the television screen, he realises he must have been asleep for about three hours. Jamie is perched on the arm of the sofa, looking down at him kindly.  
  
“We’re all going to eat together. Vicky’s cooking, if you want to join us?”  
  
Martin tries to be subtle and not too eager but he suspects he’s rather missed the mark by jumping up from the sofa with such speed. His dinner would have been plain pasta, and maybe a fried egg if he still had an egg left, but now it would definitely be something a bit more exciting and filling. It also felt quite nice to be included, in a strange sort of way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.  
  
The students are still getting to know each other and they involve him in their conversation. One of them asks what he does for a living and he briefly mentions the man-with-a-van thing before attempting to present what he does at MJN as his main job.  
  
“I’m a captain. Th-that is, an airline captain. Well, I say airline – Carolyn says it’s just an air _dot_ because we’ve only got one plane.”  
  
Rather than the usual reaction of _yeah right_ or _pull the other one_ , the students actually seem to be rather impressed by Martin’s revelation.  
  
“Oh my goodness, seriously?” asks the one he thinks is called Clare.  
  
Vicky chips in with, “That must be so exciting! Have you been all over the world, then?”  
  
Martin nods and proceeds to tell them about some of the more exotic or interesting trips, such as the Christmas Hong-Kong-to-Molokai adventure, being arrested in Boston and chasing polar bears in the Arctic Circle. By the time he’s finished, the students are completely in awe of him.  
  
Liam is particularly sturdy and the girls all giggle when he flexes his arms for show. Martin’s not usually the type to find a big, strong guy all that desirable, whereas Jamie is much more his type. He’s not entirely sure when he started thinking of Jamie in that sort of way and he rather hopes he stops thinking that way sooner rather than later. Having a crush on anyone is a bad idea, Martin thinks – it never ends well and actually often ends with at least one person pointing and laughing at him.  
  
Excusing himself because he’s got a flight in the morning, Martin retires to his room.  
  
The next morning, Martin eats breakfast in just his trousers, shirt and tie, but when it comes time to leave he pulls his blazer over the top. He’s just putting his hat on when Vicky, Jamie and the one he thinks might be called Jake appear in the doorway.  
  
“Aye-aye, Captain!” possibly-Jake calls, adding a salute.  
  
Martin leaves for work in an excellent mood and even a Douglas on top form can’t bring him down.  
  
He arrives home at 2am, so tired he can barely think straight. He wanders into the kitchen for a glass of water and finds a note on the table with his name on it. It reads:  
  
_“Martin,_  
  
You said you’d be back late and I didn’t think you’d be in the mood to cook anything, so I’ve made some sandwiches for you. They’re on your shelf in the fridge.  
  
Jamie x”  
  
Martin doesn’t know what to be more surprised about – the sandwiches or the kiss after his name. He concludes that it’s a decision he’d be better off making after he’s had something to eat, so he takes the plate out of the fridge and sits at the table. He isn’t expecting what he find when he pulls the foil back.  
  
Rather than just a couple of slices of bread with some cheap ham shoved between them, he’s faced with what would cause Martin to later describe Jamie as the superhero of the sandwich world. Two sandwiches made from bread so thick it can only have been cut from a loaf by hand, filled with what appears to be egg, a sort of posh ham, lettuce and tomatoes.  
  
He hasn’t eaten since the catered food provided mid-afternoon and had rather been expecting to go to bed hungry. Standing briefly to get a glass of water, he then sits once again and proceeds to demolish both sandwiches in record time. He’s just sipping at the water and wiping the crumbs from the front of his uniform when he realises Jamie is standing in the doorway just sort of gazing at him and grinning.  
  
“Oh, h-hi , didn’t see you there!” Martin stands, clearing the rest of the crumbs and attempting to straighten out his jacket.  
  
“I’ve only been here for a moment.” Jamie steps into the room, still grinning. “Good flight, was it?”  
  
“Yes, yes, quite good, yes.” Too many words there, Martin notes. “D-did you have a good day?”  
  
Jamie steps forwards again until there’s practically no breathing space between them. “Yes, _sir._ ”  
  
Martin is quite sure he’s supposed to respond to this somehow, but the correct words elude him he just sort of gapes. Jamie solves the problem by tilting his head down slightly and lifting Martin’s chin so he can kiss him. It’s careful and reserved, as though he’s testing the waters to see if his advances would be welcome.  
  
He needn’t have worried, as Martin finds he can’t help throwing his arms around Jamie and pulling their bodies closer as he kisses back enthusiastically. He lets himself be guided until he’s backed up against the counter, then runs his hands up through Jamie’s hair and accidentally grips too tightly. This draws out a moan of pure unadulterated pleasure and Martin makes a mental note to remember it if they’re ever in this situation again.  
  
They unbutton each other’s shirts and Jamie pulls away to admire him for a moment, before diving straight back in for another kiss. Martin moans softly as Jamie tugs on his lower lip with his teeth. Eventually, Jamie pulls away again, but leans in to whisper in Martin’s ear instead.  
  
“I haven’t really done this before, but I’ll give it my best effort – let me know if I’m getting it wrong, will you?” Martin just nods and tries not to shudder at the sensation of Jamie’s breath on his neck. His own experience isn’t vast and it’s been quite some time, but he’s pretty sure he can still advise on right and wrong in this sort of situation, up to a point. He watches as Jamie unfastens his own trousers and then follows suit.  
  
Jamie takes both of their cocks in his hand and squeezes the heads gently, causing Martin to whimper.  
  
Martin doesn’t know where to look – down, to where Jamie’s hand slides up and down, or up, to where Jamie’s brow is furrowed in concentration and his lower lip is caught between his teeth. He lets his eyes linger downwards for a moment, before choosing to watch as Jamie’s expression becomes more of a smile as he grows in confidence.  
  
The sounds Martin makes are almost whines as the awkward angle they’ve found themselves at means that the head of Jamie’s cock brushes against his frenulum with every movement.  
  
Jamie comes first, a desperate moan filling the empty kitchen. His hand slows to a stop as he steadies himself, leaning in for a kiss before re-adjusting his hold to focus solely on Martin’s cock.  
  
Looking down again, Martin tightens his grip on Jamie’s open shirt and rocks his hips forward, pushing himself further into Jamie’s hand, but Jamie holds his hips still against the counter with his free hand and speeds up.  
  
Martin comes messily - and quite suddenly - with a gasp, Jamie’s hand stroking him through it and eliciting a couple of ‘aftershocks’. He finds himself being pulled into a hug and just burrows in, revelling in the closeness for a moment.  
  
He wakes up the next morning with Jamie spooning him. They’re definitely in Jamie’s bed, he works out, because the mattress beneath them is far too comfortable to be Martin’s own. He feels a kiss being pressed to the base of his neck, then hears a voice.  
  
“When do you have to be at work for?”  
  
Rolling over, he smiles. “Not until early evening.”  
  
Jamie’s subtle smile turns to a smirk and he rolls them both over as he starts to trail kisses across Martin’s torso. Martin is just deciding the best way to torture Douglas with telling-but-not-telling of the details when he finds his thoughts interrupted by the heat of Jamie’s mouth around him.  
  
Perhaps this year would turn out alright, after all.


End file.
